Wednesday, March 25, 2009

March the twenty-fifth

No one's hangin' stockin's up,
No one's bakin' pie,
No one's lookin' up to see,
A new star in the sky.
No one's talkin' brotherhood,
No one's givin' gifts,
And no one loves a Christmas tree
On March the twenty-fifth.

This is from Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends", a book of poems and drawings. He has always been a favorite of mine and, as most of you know, I have played his "Unicorn Song" and "The Three Legged Man" songs for many years. My good friend, Scott Munn quoted this poem the other night when he was in the Lariat to jam on his congas and visit on the breaks.
Since today is March the 25th, I thought it would be appropriate to put this poem on the blob to remind people of the great works of Shel Silverstein and to buy or check out one of his books at your local library. And by the way, if your Christmas tree is still up or out in the yard somewhere, it might be time discard the tree but please always keep the spirit of Christmas in your hearts. Even if it is March the twenty-first!


Anonymous said...

My kids at school love Shel Silverstein's poems and so do I. March 25th is also Maryland Day! Go Terps! Well at least the Lady Terps are doing great!


MJ said...

Isn't that Charlie Brown's Christmas tree?

Sean said...

Sorry I'm behind in my Blob readin', but here's one of my favorite Shel songs, recorded by Bobby Bare (search it out!)...


Now I was hangin' round Nashville writin' songs and playin' 'em for all of the stars

Watchin' 'em laugh and hand 'em back livin' on hope and Hershey bars

So I pawned my guitar and bought a ticket home and I's headin' for the Trailway bus

When I seen an old fountain pen laying in the gutter so I stopped and picked it up

It was worn-out bent and cast aside you know kinda sorta like myself

So I sat down on the curb and wrote a little song
That told the world how both of us felt

Then I run that song down to Music Row and before I had time to spit
It's pitched and sold and cut for a record
And moving up the charts and damn it's a hit

So I wrote me another winner then I wrote me a smash again
And I's a flyin' off the ground cause I knew I'd found me a sure hit songwriter's pen

So the songs they just kept a'pourin' out and the money kept pouring in
I just couldn't miss all it took was a twist of my sure hit songwriter's pen

Remember when I won the Grammy then I won it again and again
Well none of you knew that it was all due to my sure hit songwriter's pen

I was a darling with all the ladies, I was a hero among the men...
Making big dough working rodeos and TV shows me and my sure hit songwriter's pen

But then one night in Wichita I was just coming off of the stage
Folks all lined up and did crawl for my autograph Lord I was a national rage

One little freckled face girl was there she said I got no pencil sir

So I signed it with my songwriter's pen and then handed the pen back to her

Four o'clock that morning I wake up with the shakes and the bends
With terror in my eyes cause good God I realized I'd lost my sure hit songwriter's pen

I offered rewards in the papers I pleaded on the Sympathy Line
And a whole lotta folks and a whole lotta pens but none of them pen's was mine

So my songs got worse and my money ran out and so did all my so-called friends

And there was no doubt I was nothing without my long-lost sure hit songwriter's pen

So I rolled like a stone down old Skid Row where I feed my blues on wine
And I rest my chops in a two-bit flop and I tell my story for a drink or a dime

And I sleep with my shoes underneath my head and I dream about days back then

When I blazed my name across the sky with my sure hit songwriter's pen

Somewhere in Wichita some little girl who's a freckled face nine or ten
Is doing her arithmetic homework tonight with a sure hit songwriter's pen

God bless ya honey you got yourself my sure hit songwriter's pen